On the other side of the door
by Ansy Pansy aka Panz
Summary: Sandy's first visit to Kirsten in rehab. Not your average oneshot: 3000 words lol!


On the other side of the door

**Summary: **Sandy's first visit to Kirsten in rehab.

**Disclaimer: **

Characters belong to Josh Schwartz and fox

Several of the lines belong to Diane Samuels from the play Kindertransport which I've just done for my A2 drama.

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Well guess who arrived almost 2 hours early for the open day because they made us leave the college to go to the lecture building so damn early? So I've just been sat in the room scaring tutors who came in to set up, until a mean one came in and kicked me out while he sorted something on the computer. Humph.

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_I'm stood on the other side of your door and I'm knocking._

_In the hope you'll let me in._

_I'm stood on the other side of your door and I'm waiting._

_Because I have to see you again._

'Kirsten?' Sandy called softly, tapping against the dark wood of the door with his knuckles.

…

'Kirsten?' he asked again, worried by the lack of response and tried the handle. It didn't move, 'The door's locked,' he said in surprise.

'I locked it genius.' His wife's voice sounded strange, hard, unlike her own.

'Are you going to unlock it?'

'No.'

Oh. This was going to be harder than he thought.

'Why not?'

'I'm not coming out.'

'You don't have to, just let me in.'

…

'Kirsten?'

…

'Can you hear me?' It was a stupid question but he couldn't help it. He wanted an excuse for the silence.

'Go away.'

'Darling, I'm worried about you.'

'It's too late.'

'Kirsten.'

'I'm going to stop talking to you now.'

'Shit.'

…

It was a good thirty five minutes later before she made a sound. Sandy had sat down, his back against the door and wondered if he was waiting in vain.

…

'Sandy?' She didn't want to ask but she couldn't resist. She had to know whether he was still out there, waiting for her.

'What?'

He was. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Relieved? Glad? Anxious? Angry? Confused? That fit.

'Nothing.'

'What?'

'It doesn't matter. Go away.'

'You can't just stay in there.'

'Can I not?'

'Kirsten…' Sandy sighed, for once he didn't know what to say.

'Leave me alone.'

'This is crazy.'

'Oh so I'm crazy now am I? Going to send me to an institute perhaps?'

Her voice was louder than it had been; she must be right on the other side of the door now.

'Kirsten I-'

'I don't want to hear it.'

'I'm sorry.'

'So am I Sandy. So. Am. I.'

Single word sentences. She was pissed. Angry and upset, forcing the words out from between her teeth, hearing the bite in the words was enough for him to visualise it.

…

'I miss you,' he said, almost to himself.

…

He tried again, a little louder, 'The boys miss you,' everyone misses you, even Julie Cooper Nichol misses you.'

'Sandy, don't try to make me feel sorry for Julie Cooper Nichol.'

'Isn't it better than feeling sorry for yourself?'

'Not when your family hate you so much they ship you off to rehab.' Her tone was bitter. Surely she couldn't believe that.

'You're here because we love you. I hate it as much as you do, I hate myself but I had to Kirsten, I had to do this. I can't lose you and that's the way things were going. Missing you like this is preferable to missing you forever.'

Kirsten bit her lip, hearing his words but not quite able to bring herself to believe them. God knows she wanted to but it wasn't that easy. She leant against the door, pressing her head to the cool wood.

'I love you,' she heard him whisper.

She slid downwards at that, unable to support her weight, and rested against the door. A single panel of wood stood between them, through which her own whisper carried.

'I love you too.'

…

Another lengthy silence. Kirsten twisted her rings, first one way, then the other. The keyhole was mere inches away but she couldn't bring herself to reach up to it. Sandy was still there, she could hear him fidgeting; the clink of his wristwatch as he checked the time yet again, the sound of his fingers running agitatedly through his hair. It would all be standing on end by now. Sandy Cohen wasn't one for sitting still and certainly not in silence. As if on cue he broke her reverie.

'Please just let me in Kirsten. I won't go away until you do.'

'Wait then.'

She couldn't give in. She didn't dare.

'I will. For you I'll wait forever.'

God he sounded cliché and it obviously wasn't impressing Kirsten by sound of her cold response. It made him shiver, it was sharp, icy.

'Let me be.'

'I can't.'

'Please just go away.'

'I could go ask one of the nurses for a key. I'd rather you let me in though.'

'No.'

'I will ask.'

'Ask then.'

'I don't want to.'

'Wouldn't work anyway; key's in the lock.'

'Kirsten!'

The triumph faded to be replaced with fear, 'Look, I just don't want to…I…I can't see you.'

'I don't understand you.'

'That's the problem isn't it Sandy. You don't understand me anymore and it's all my fault.'

'I didn't _say_ that.'

'You didn't have to. You hate me'

'For God's sake I don't hate you…I just hate you locking me out when you should be looking me in the eye.'

'Maybe I don't like what I see reflected.'

'Oh Kirsten...please let me in, I love you. I'm you husband.'

'That's why you hate me. I'm not your wife anymore.'

'What?'

'You'll never understand.'

'I'm trying to.' He couldn't stop the hint of frustration appearing, he had to see her. If she wasn't going to listen to reason she'd damn well understand some other way.

'You're always going to blame me.'

'No I'm not; we've all done things wrong, we're all to blame.'

'That's not the point'

'Now you're making no sense at all.'

'I'm the one who's making you hate me.'

'I don't hate you okay. Stop it.'

'Well you know what? …I hate you.'

Somehow it wasn't a surprise anymore and his reply was immediate, 'Nothing you say will make me walk out of here and not come back.'

'Nothing I can say can change any of this. Nothing you can say can change it. I hate myself but I hate you more, this is your fault. You did this to me.'

'What did I do Kirsten?' In spite of himself the anger was rising.

'You and my dad, you took too much, you took too much of me. You took me away.'

He was surprised no one had come to investigate the disturbance, she had raised her voice at him and he couldn't help but raise his own back.

'How did I take you? I let you be whatever you wanted. I let you move back to Newport, work for the slave driver you called a father. I stood by and let you live your life, I fit myself into it and now you're _blaming_ me for it? I am not your father Kirsten, don't absolve him of the blame simply because he's dead.'

'What right have you got to accuse me? You left me? I lost myself in you Sandy until I wasn't anyone without you and then you made me live without you. I don't know who I am without you. I don't know who I am anymore.'

Sandy's anger deflated as he heard Kirsten's heated words fade to a broken plea for help. Her second argument held water, held a lot of unshed tears. He answered quietly, tired and defeated. 'I'm right here, on the other side of the door.'

'Exactly. On the other side of the door.'

It was pointed, and it hurt.

'Then let me in.'

'I never wanted to live without you and you made me. What is more cruel than that? Except for coming back and punishing me for surviving on my own, punishing me because I needed alcohol to help me through it.'

Kirsten could barely force the words out amidst her emotions, the mix of fury and distress choking her throat. Sandy felt the same, unsure whether the force in own his voice was more anger or more love. 'Go on then. Bare your grudges at me I can live with that. I deserve it, but don't forget that I did this for you. I admit I was in the wrong and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm to blame for some of this, I know I am, but you cannot say that I hate you, you _cannot_ say I don't love you.'

'Shut up.'

It wasn't an exclamation but a sob.

'What?'

'I don't want to blame you and I keep doing it. I'm angry with myself and I'm taking it out on you. I don't want to do this.'

'What do you want?'

'I want all this never to have happened.'

'Well it has, we can't change that, we can only move forward.'

'But I want to go back to normal.'

'Sweetheart…'

He could hear her crying. That hurt more than anything she had said.

'Don't cry, I bet you haven't any tissues.'

…

'Do you want my handkerchief?'

'Your handkerchief can't hold all the tears that want crying.'

'I'm sorry.'

'I am too…I didn't mean all that…I just, don't know what to do.'

'Let me in. _Please_ let me in.'

He was begging her, his voice raw. Raw emotion, raw need. Sandy Cohen was laying himself bare for her. She had to learn to do the same again. She used to, well almost. She had secrets, but she'd never hidden from him like this, hidden her own emotion, her own raw need for him.

…

A moment later there was the sound of a key turning in the lock. Sandy scrambled up from the floor and tentatively pressed the door handle. It gave beneath his fingers and he couldn't be controlled any longer, rapidly opening the door and searching the room for his wife. Kirsten had made a hasty retreat from the other side of the door and was now sat on the opposite side of the bed, her back towards him.

'I'm sorry,' she said as he approached, ducking her head so he couldn't see her face. 'This isn't your fault at all it's mine. And I don't hate you I _need _you.'

'Why do you keep pushing me away then? Why have I had to sit on a hard floor for an hour and a half huh?' he teased.

'Oh Sandy…because…because…I'm scared? I needed you and you weren't there so I'm simply trying not to need you.'

'Come here,' he insisted, sitting beside her and pulling her into his arms. It was impossible not to.

She hesitated at first, holding her body stiff against him and trying not to let hear tears stain his shirt. Sandy eased her closer, 'Relax sweetheart, I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere ever again. I'm sorry I wasn't there, I'm not gonna forgive myself for that so I understand if you can't but you have to believe me when I say I need you just as much.'

Kirsten could feel his arms tight around her, almost too tight but she didn't mind. She needed this, needed him, more than she needed to breathe.

'I know we should probably talk…' she began at last.

Sandy nodded silently against her, wishing they could go back to a time when they could communicate without words.

'We need to but…right now…'

'Let's just stay right here,' he offered, smoothing damp strands of hair away from her face. Kirsten sniffed and tried to stop crying but the tender gesture simply made her feel worse. Guilty, confused, lost without him. She dropped her head back to his shoulder and began to sob in earnest. Sandy tried to comfort her but nothing seemed to help and he resolved to let her cry a while, perhaps that's what she needed. He hated it though and eventually he couldn't take it any longer.

'Hey,' Sandy said firmly, drawing back as Kirsten's crying became hysterical. 'Hey, stop it. It's okay.'

She wasn't listening, the frantic sobs catching in her throat, her breathing erratic and her eyes flicking back and forth.

'Kirsten. _Kirsten_!' He cupped her face with his hands, forcing her to make eye contact. 'Calm down or I'll have to ask them to sedate you.'

Her eyes, green from the salty tears, flashed at that; panic, anger and a little disbelief.

'And I know how much you hate swallowing pills or having shots so I suggest you listen to me.'

She took a deep breath and another, body shuddering, hands shaking and tears still creeping down her cheeks. Sandy slid his arms back around her so she was pressed up against his damp shirt, both their chests heaving. It took several minutes sat like that, her husband's hands rubbing up and down her back, before Kirsten could speak.

'I'm sorry,' she told him breathlessly, looking up at his face, seeing a sprinkling of grey at his temple and water in the creases around his blue eyes. She used her thumbs to brush the tears away.

'You're not crying?' she said softly.

'Maybe you have that affect on me.' His voice was gruff, low in his chest and reverberating against her.

'Are you taking care of yourself?' she asked, still scrutinising his face. 'You look tired.'

'So do you, I bet you could do with some rest,'

'I'm fine.'

'Sure your head isn't hurting from all that crying.'

She didn't answer and Sandy knew he was right. He shifted himself into a more comfortable position on the bed and waited for his wife to curl up beside him, her head resting on his chest. He'd been stroking her hair and listening to her slowing breathing when suddenly she raised her head and her eyes met his anxiously. 'You won't leave while I'm asleep will you?'

'No,' he told her quickly, 'of course not.'

'You'll still be here when I wake up?'

'Yes sweetie.'

'Promise?'

'I promise.'

Kirsten settled back against him and as he felt her body relax he wondered at her fear, the multiple assurances she had needed. She didn't trust him and as much as he hated it, he couldn't blame her; these days he didn't trust himself. And, as much as he hated it, he didn't completely trust her either. Well, he did, the trust just wasn't the same. They had broken the bonds of trust between them and were having to start again, build new ones. Just how fragile those bonds were was evident.

…

'Visiting hours were over a full half-hour ago,' a voice remarked from the doorway a while later. Sandy looked up at one of the nurses who was trying to appear stern and failing as she smiled at Kirsten curled up in Sandy's arms.

'I know Eva, but she's asleep and I couldn't leave without saying goodbye but I didn't want to wake her.'

'She does look exhausted, poor thing,' the woman agreed sympathetically and Sandy stroked a gentle hand down his wife's pale cheek, smoothing the frown on her forehead and sighing at the dark shadows beneath her eyes.

'Don't think she's slept much since she got here,' she continued. The corners of Sandy's mouth turned upwards in a sad smile.

'We don't…sleep well, without each other,' he admitted.

'I should have guessed; you're looking pretty terrible yourself.'

'Thanks.'

'Sorry, but you do. Kirsten's in good hands here, you don't have to worry.'

'Easier said than done.'

'How are things at home?' Eva was the nurse Sandy had rambled to in those long 72 hours of detox when he knew he couldn't talk to Kirsten but couldn't help calling.

'Stressful…it's just; not having Kirsten there makes it harder.'

'Seems to me like you're juggling too much; Kirsten, the boys, their girlfriends, the police, the doctors, the lawyers, your mother in law, the company.'

'I wouldn't have it any other way.'

'No Sandy Cohen, I don't suppose you would.'

'What's that mean?'

'Kirsten might not be very good at talking about her problems but she's fine when it comes to talking about you.'

He sighed, 'Sure I don't count as one of the problems?'

'All I've heard is constant praise, affection and anecdotes. And a daily treatise on how much she misses you.'

'I miss her too…actually, it's like I've been missing her for months but I only just woke up to it.'

'You need some sleep. I'm gonna pretend I haven't seen you because there's no way you're driving all the way back to Newport in that state.'

'I'm-' he began but was cut off.

'Don't say you're fine, you're shattered and yearning to stay with Kirsten the rest of the night, don't think I can't tell.'

'You're a wise woman Eva.'

'Why thank you. Now, how about I call your sons, let them know you'll be late back and then wake you before the morning shift arrives?'

'That sounds great…' Sandy trailed off, exhausted, and Eva moved to close the curtains before withdrawing.

'Thanks.'

'Don't mention it, just go to sleep.'

Sandy's response was a slight snore and Eva smiled, suppressing a chuckle; wait until she told Kirsten.

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Review me! Review me!

Look at its little eyes, aw, it's begging you. How can you resist?

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